


hey, hey, hey, lover

by torrancing



Category: A Life Less Ordinary (1997), Shallow Grave (1994)
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Crossover, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, crossdressing for comfort, inability to confront one's own feelings, not exactly slow burn but, this is not an internalized homophobic bully ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25875814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrancing/pseuds/torrancing
Summary: Robert Lewis hits the jackpot when his boss fires him outside the guidelines of his contract and faces a lawsuit from Robert. He retires back to Scotland to focus on his trash-novels and searches for roommates. He finds David Stephens, Juliet Miller, and Alex Law and perhaps bites off more than he can chew when he takes to the only one of the three who seems to wish him dead.
Relationships: Alex Law/Robert Lewis
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I just want to say that this is a pretty silly fic concept, but Lauren + Alex, and the rest of the ssskagkids were really excited about it, so I'm attempting to make the most of it that I can! It's a lot of fun to work on, and their dynamic is one I've never really touched base on, so I'm happy to contribute.
> 
> That being said, I really really hope you enjoy! I'm uploading the first three chapters in one go, but each chapter going forward will be posted weekly! (There's going to be 6 total, most likely.)
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent

Answering an advertisement seemed easy enough. Robert only had his messenger bag with him because he didn’t want to risk being accepted and not having his legal documents because he dropped or misplaced the folder. He clutched the strap of it with both hands, shrugging it back up snugly onto his shoulder as he ascended the stairs, checking the scrawled writing on his hand for the flat number.

Sure that he was at the right door, he rang the doorbell and was greeted by one face. Not a bad face, not a bad smile, but all too eager to conduct an interview if you asked Robert. 

“Hello. I’ve come about the room?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, but he offered the warmest smile he could muster anyways.

He was let into the flat but not spoken to aside from an introduction so brief that Robert almost doubted that it had happened, sat down on an armchair facing two other people in chairs, the man who’d let him inside, Alex, taking his own seat once more. Silence made him nervous, he’d admit.

Robert shifted in his seat, glancing around and silently letting his eyes fall on what would be his room if he “passed” the interview. His eyes darted back to Alex when he heard the scribble of a pen checking boxes on a clipboard. He wrung the strap of his messenger bag again.

“What’s his name?”

Robert opened his mouth to answer, but the third man, the one with the shorter hair, did instead. He assumed that’d be David.

“I don’t know- Richard or something.”

Robert’s eyebrows knitted together. He gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t correct him, sure that he’d do so himself.

“Robert.” It was the woman, Juliet, this time, as it was the only name left to his knowledge.

“Robert?” He let his eyes fall on Alex once again.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

He took this as the time to speak, not wanting to waste more time debating _his_ name.

“That’s right,” he cleared his throat, straightening up when Alex’s eyes landed on him, hands tucked in between his knees as he made eye contact with the man directly across from him.

“What?” Robert wasn’t expecting to be _questioned_ , nor was he expecting the tone in which he was. The man’s face was deadpanned, staring into him almost uncomfortably.

“Uh- Well-” Alex cut him off, shifting and smiling warmly now.

“Well, are you comfortable, Robert?”

Robert returned the smile and kept his gaze steady. This was like any other interview, in his opinion, so he wanted to be genuine.

“Yes, thanks.”

“You’ve seen the flat?” He had. What he hadn’t seen in the small pictures in the advertisement, he’d seen when he came in.

“Yes.” He nodded and kept his smile up. He could see an inkling of a smile on the woman’s face, but David looked incredulous of him, or quite possibly his existence.

“And you like it?”

“Yes, of course. It’s great. It’s very spacious and well within-”

“It is, isn’t it?” Robert seemed to get the vibe that this man either didn’t like him or didn’t care about Robert’s answers as much as he was only asking for them out of necessity. it irked him, “And we all like it. The room’s nice, too, don’t you think?”

Robert wanted to say that it was perfect. It was small, but not as small as he had grown used to, and even though the color scheme was a bit too dark for him, he had no doubt that it would create the perfect atmosphere for him to write.

But instead, he said, “Yes.”

Alex continued as if Robert hadn’t even replied, voice bouncing on each word happily, like this was amusing, “ _Spacious_ , bright, well-appointed - all that sort of stuff. All that sort of _crap_.”

Robert wasn’t a violent man, but he could understand it. Still, he smiled.

“Well, yes.”

“Yes.. So, tell me, Robert. Just tell me, ‘cause I’d like to know. What on earth could make you think we’d want to share a flat like this with someone like you?”

Robert’s stomach sank and he opened his mouth to speak, only closing it a second later.

“I mean,” Alex continued, looking to both of his flatmates, “my first impressions - and they’re rarely wrong - is that you have none of the qualities we normally seek from a prospective flatmate.” David stood and walked to the door, Robert darting his eyes between them and standing to follow. How would Alex know or get that from two minutes of cutting Robert off?

“Talking here about things like presence, charisma, style, and charm. And I don’t think we’re asking too much. I don’t think we’re being unreasonable.” Robert had to turn back to grab his back, anxiously following David to the door as he opened it. Even as Alex continued, David was hunched over in a silent laugh before Robert was even out the door, “Take David here for instance. A chartered accountant he may be, but at least he tries hard. Trouble is, I just don’t think you’re trying.”

Robert was speechless, anxiety a pit in his stomach as he descended the stairs. He didn’t want to be flatmates with such rude people anyways. He was almost out the door of the building when he heard it. That voice, echoing down the stairwell. He knew better than to think it was a retraction, but he looked up anyways.

“And, Robert, I mean this - good luck!” If Robert was a less polite man, he would have given the man a piece of his mind, but he saw it as he was undeserving of any more of his time.

When Robert got outside, he sat on a nearby bench, wanting to catch his breath and check his list. He’d responded to several advertisements, and, while the others already had filled the extra flatmate position, this one and the final one had not, as far as he knew.

He was supposed to meet the final one that day as well, but a short trip to a payphone and some spare change later made him fully aware that they too had filled the spot and that they were oh, so, very sorry.

“Shit.”

The upside of this was that the room in the last flat was a shared room and, while he’d dealt with worse, he wanted to give himself more comfort than he’d been allowed in the past. The downside was that the only place in the area that he’d been hoping to live that hadn’t filled the position was _this one_.

He picked at his overshirt, an honestly ugly button-up left open. He sighed and took it off, stuffing it into his messenger bag and running a hand through his hair. Alex most likely had a point about his style. It wasn’t like he’d gotten his hair cut like this on purpose; he’d shaved his head and it was just… growing back like that. He did his best to comb it to look semi-okay with his fingers and made his decision.

+

Robert didn’t hold his bag strap this time, taking a deep breath. While he wanted to come across as assertive, he wanted to be as calm as he could as well.

He rang the doorbell, letting it buzz for a second or two, then again, then again, until Juliet answered the door. She seemed surprised to see him but caught him off guard.

“Robert… Here about the room?” Her voice was playful, like she’d been laughing recently, cheeks rosy from it.

“Quite right. I have something to say.” Robert nodded curtly and she let him in, pointing to the couch and retaking her seat. Alex laughed to himself, scoffing at the situation.

“It’s been an hour and you’re back again, and for what? To-”

“I don’t feel that I was properly taken into consideration for the room and was treated very poorly in the process. You have every right to turn me down for the room, but I don’t appreciate the way I was spoken to-”

“Well,” Alex started. Robert ignored him and continued.

“I was willing to pay three months rent my first payment, as well as do a majority of the household chores, and offer to cook whenever I could, as I’d have enough free time to do so and was taking all three of _your_ schedules into consideration since you were _kind_ enough to include them in the advertisement. Now, you can still decline me, I probably look insane storming back up here and demanding an apology or whathaveyou, but I felt that if you were to judge me or mistreat me, it would be at least _justified_.”

The three exchanged looks, eyebrows raised, and Alex looked rosier in the cheeks than he had a moment before. When they didn’t reply, Robert felt that anxiety rise up again, but instead of continuing, he only pulled out his folder and handed the stapled papers with all of the necessary information and where to contact him to Juliet, pulling it out of reach when Alex put his hand out for them.

“If I don’t get a call, I obviously didn’t get the room, but I hope you seriously reconsider. I doubt you will, as I passed a man on the stairs who was crying, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Juliet looked entirely amused by the situation, and a glance at David showed the same, both side-eyeing Alex and his just slightly gobsmacked expression. Robert didn’t want to overstay his welcome, so he offered his hand to shake David and Juliet’s who took it politely and he left.

He had to admit, it felt nice to stand up for himself. He thought that maybe this was the new him. No longer a doormat, no longer disposable. Maybe.

+

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, why not? He can pay for the room, he offered to take over most of the chores, and on top of that, he offered to cook as well. Just because he stood up to you-”

“Exactly! He can’t take a joke or two, so he comes back and demands an apology? Talks over us?” Alex argued, arms crossed. This isn’t what he wanted. He refused to admit that Robert was the only potential flatmate that _did_ fill all of the criteria, as well as apparently having the money. He didn’t like being wrong.

“You said it yourself, Alex. If he wasn’t a doormat, you would have considered him more,” David offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well-”

“So, we’ll call him tomorrow, then.”

“What about my vote?” Alex frowned.

“Majority rules unless you can drop your ego.”

Silence.

“Tomorrow, then. He’s really the only one that can pay _and_ will be entertaining. Why wouldn’t we take the only one that won’t take your shit?” Juliet teased, elbowing Alex in the ribs gently. He was still pouting.

+

Robert, in all honesty, hadn’t expected a call. He was in his hotel bed on his stomach, feet knocking aimlessly against each other while he skimmed through the paper, chewing on a pen cap. The phone rang next to him where he had pulled it from the side table to sit on the bed for easy access in his search for a flat.

“Hello?” He hummed, spitting the pen cap out onto the unfolded newspaper.

“Robert Lewis?” He didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but he did hear a whisper and the sound of fabric covering the mouthpiece of the phone, followed by a hushed, “Would you like to do it instead?” then silence.

“Erm. Yes, this is Robert. May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

“Oh, yes, this is David Stephens. I was calling to offer you the room in our flat. You came by yesterday?” David sounded much more polite than the first impression Robert had gotten of him and he suddenly felt bad for misjudging him. Maybe he’d misjudged all of them and they had only been trying to seem lighthearted.

“Wait- Really? You’re sure?” He asked, not believing the news. He grinned and tapped the newspaper, “When can I move in?”

David chuckled warmly and the two briefly went back and forth, agreeing on a time for that very day for Robert to bring his things and get his key after he let David know he didn’t have much to move into the room at all.

More hushed whispers and a glaring silence later, they said their goodbyes and Robert shot up out of the bed, decidedly getting dressed and repacking the small number of things he’d unpacked since the beginning of his temporary stay in the room.

When he’d moved back to Scotland, he’d left most things behind, not caring for them nor wanting to bog himself down with things he could now, very easily, replace. The only things he’d packed were clothes, records (the record player had been Lily’s), and the box of mementos and photographs from childhood. One plane ride later and he was home.

+

Robert stopped at the bank to withdraw the amount he’d promised, feeling guilty for how close to closing it was and thanking the woman behind the counter repeatedly, a warm smile and patience being a constant in the transaction. He pulled the red Chrysler up to the building, parking as out of the way as he could, and was soon making his way up the stairs with a medium-sized packing box, a backpack, and a smile.

The smile fell when it was Alex that opened the door, who looked like he’d grinned on the way to the door with the sole purpose of frowning when he saw Robert.

“Oh.” Alex left the door open and walked away, causing Robert to roll his eyes and step into the flat, grin returning when he saw Juliet appear from the room he’d been interviewed in.

“Juliet, hi- I just wanted to say thank you, all three of you for reconsidering, and I’m really sorry we got off on the wrong foot or if I said anything that made you see me in a different light,” Robert put the box down and offered his hand to shake again, and she took it smiling.

“Dinner’s almost ready, and you can get your key to the flat from David. He’s in his room, you need only knock,” Juliet let him know, choosing not to address what he’d said. She also chose not to tell him which room was David’s before leaving, and she didn’t hear him when he called after her.

He turned and looked around the room, picking up the box and taking his things to put down in his room so he didn’t have to keep repeating the same actions. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his palms onto his jeans, stopping in front of the door next to his first. He knocked and waited, only for the door to swing open.

Alex.

At first, Robert felt dread, but he pushed it away and took the opportunity to extend some sort of kindness.

“Sorry, I was looking for David, but- Well, now that I have you, I wanted to thank you for reconsidering. I think we got off on the wrong foot, really, and I’m really sorry if something I said or did put you off. Oh, and I think dinner’s nearly finish-”

“I didn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“I didn’t reconsider. David and Juliet gave you the room, not me.”

Robert stood there and blinked. He furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh. Well-”

Alex closed the door in his face, effectively cutting him off and leaving him hung out on a clothesline. He processed what had just happened and sighed, walking away and approaching what had to be David’s room. It opened before he even knocked, and he took a step back and smiled, laughing half-heartedly.

“Er- Sorry, Juliet said you had my key?” He asked, hoping he wasn’t in the way. David smiled and closed the door behind him as he stepped out, leading Robert to the desk in the entry area, opening a drawer and handing him his key a moment later.

“Here you are. I hope Alex’s attitude won’t be a problem, he’s just. Like that, really,” David divulged. Robert shrugged and shook his head, smiling warmly.

“Two out of three can’t be too bad, can it?” David laughed and shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. If you’ll excuse me?” He stepped around Robert, hand on his shoulder as he passed, and made his way to the bathroom. Robert had to consider his options for a moment and decided to extend the offer of help to Juliet in the kitchen. It smelled wonderful from out there, but when he crossed the threshold of the kitchen, it was even better. The table had a nice spread of food; small steaks, a large bowl of salad, tatties. It seemed the cooking was done, but Robert offered anyways.

“Hey- I just wanted to pop in, offer a hand,” He hummed, smiling at the woman. She smiled back and shook her head.

“I was just about to come to get everyone. This,” she pointed at a chair, “will be your seat, if you don’t mind.”

Robert shook his head and stepped towards the end of the table, phone ringing at the same second. Juliet looked towards the phone, then back at Robert.

“Would you mind getting that? If it’s for me, I’m not in.”

Robert furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re not in?”

“No.”

He trailed behind her as he made his way to the phone and she knocked on Alex’s door.

“Hello.”

“Hello? Who is this? Do you live-” Robert was confused as to how the stranger on the phone had the address, but he nodded to himself.

“Yes? Who’s calling please?” Robert tried to keep his air of manners about him, but the man’s voice put him off quite a bit. He could feel Juliet and Alex’s eyes on him, as well.

“This is Brian. Could you put Juliet on?” _Brian_ sounded annoyed.

“No, I can’t, sorry. She’s not in right now. I can take a message if you like, though-”

“No, I don’t have a fucking message-” Robert replaced the phone on the receiver, turning to look at Juliet.

“Someone named Brian?” Juliet’s face remained unchanged as she nodded.

“Did he sound upset?” Robert laughed and shrugged.

“You could say that. Is that good or bad?”

“Definitely an improvement.”

A few seconds later, the phone rang again and both Alex and Juliet walked away, heading back in the direction of the kitchen. David emerged from the bathroom and followed suit, only for Robert to do the same.

“Do you not want me to answer it?”

Juliet shook her head and took her seat at the table.

“No, it’s fine. He probably knows I’m home. I’m off tonight and work nights all week,” She explained, letting the phone ring until it cut off, the other two men in the room also taking their seat at the table. Robert stayed quiet as he took his own seat.

+

An hour later, Robert and Alex were drunk. Well, Alex was drunk. Robert was tipsy. Juliet and David would describe themselves as warmed up.

Casual conversation in the dim room had become easier once a few glasses of wine had been shared. More than a few, really, they were all on their second shared bottle, and David made the mistake of asking about Robert’s novel.

“It’s 1962,” He started, grinning to himself and his own memorized spiel, “and Marylin Monroe is giving birth to a baby girl. She’s on the phone to Jack Kennedy,” he mimed the act, putting on his best voice, “She’s saying, ‘Jack, it’s yours! It’s yours Jack!’”

“So then the orphan grows up and... she solves some great mystery, right?” Alex interjected. Robert held the imaginary phone where it was, face falling. Juliet snorted at the sight and he didn’t even cut his eyes to her.

“Well, yes-”

“It’s kind of obvious, Robbie.”

“Of course it’s _obvious_ , Alexander, it’s a trash novel. Purely for entertainment value,” Robert sneered, replacing his mime phone with his wine glass and taking a gulp. Alex refills his own glass, scoffing at the exchange.

“I’m not usually drunk.”

“Not usually _this drunk_ ,” Juliet corrected, taking the bottle to refill her own glass.

“Only on expenses,” David offered, amused.

Alex knocked over a wine glass, looking as scorned as a person who was _trying_ to looked scorned, and the next minute was filled with Juliet and Alex talking over each other, Alex seemingly complaining about his job, but Robert was wondering if the whole ‘everyone constantly interrupts each other’ thing was a regular occurrence that he was going to have to get used to.

“It’s true. A newspaper is paying for all of this. A _newspaper_ -”

Juliet looked to Robert, “In a moment, he’s going to tell you who he could have been-”

“It was you, Juliet, it was you-”

“Instead of what he is-”

Alex nodded in agreement, “What I am.”

“Which is-”

“Which is a hack.”

“The man we know and love.” Juliet got out her intended sentiment, and it seemed to go right over his head.

“A miserable, burnt-out, empty shell of a-” Alex stopped himself, his slight slur of a voice coming to a pause, the thought lost, “Know and love?”

“Yeah,” Juliet took a sip of her wine and Robert did the same, not sure if he did it because he wanted to feed the warmth in his gut or because she had.

“I think you’re lying.” Robert stared at Alex, eyebrows furrowing at the man until Juliet agreed, his eyes finding her instead.

“You see, Robert, they don’t really know me.” Robert raised his eyebrows and formed an o with his mouth, blinking at him and beginning to nod.

“No, Alex, we don’t really love you.”

Robert’s stomach sunk on Alex’s behalf. David snickered into his wine glass as Alex stared at his friend, soon smiling and taking another drink of his own, turning his attention back to Robert.

“Can you afford this place?” Alex nodded and stood slightly, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out the thick, folded over bundle of banknotes, mostly tenners and twenties. It was a little more than three months rent, but Robert didn’t mind too much. He wasn’t going to be reckless with his spending, but he saw no harm in this case.

Alex’s face changed and Robert dropped the bundle on the table in front of him, missing the shared look David and Juliet gave each other. Alex leaned over and smelled the cash, grinning wide and looking towards Robert.

“Smells like the real thing,” Alex teased.

“That’s, erm. That’s three months and some extra. As thanks for letting me move in on such short notice. I felt bad about the rough start we had,” He explained, voice slurring just slightly. A look that Robert thought might be one of guilt flashed over Alex’s face, and the conversation steered towards more interactive topics.

+

Robert showered last and went to bed thinking about what Juliet had said to Alex. Sure, he was kind of an ass, but she couldn’t have truly meant that they didn’t love him? Even though Alex had played it off as a joke he was in on, Robert could tell he was hurt over it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being vulnerable isn't Alex's strong suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy the chapter! The little details were really fun to come up with, so I hope you appreciate them. If not, you do you.
> 
> If you enjoy the chapter, be sure to leave a kudos and a comment!
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent

A week into living in the flat, Robert had invested in a barely used typewriter and several thick spiral notebooks, as well as different colored pens, to scribble thoughts and the likes down. He spent a lot of his time in his room with the door open unless he was testing his hand at the typewriter, as he didn’t like to feel as if he was bothering anybody (especially because Juliet slept during the days of the first week. The last thing he wanted was to be a bother.)

During breaks in his writing, he would do small cleaning: dusting, washing dishes, wiping crumbs off the counter. It was comforting to him to be able to clean on his own accord and write as much as he wanted, being overwhelmed or talked down to not a real worry now.

The downside of the first week was that, while Juliet slept all day and worked all night, David worked most of the day and kept to himself at night, and Alex worked several hours during the day, it got kind of lonely. He’d known their schedules going into this, of course, and he could handle that if Alex didn’t make an obvious point to avoid him.

He’d wake up around the same time as Robert, wait for him to finish his morning routine, and follow suit, only entering a room as or after Robert left it, offering usually only a grunt or nothing at all when Robert said good morning.

But that day? This fine Saturday morning? Juliet had a twelve during the day, David was called into work early, and Alex had the day off.

Of course, Robert wanted to bond with all three of them, but he figured it would take much less to get along with the two who were more neutral about his existence than the one who would seemingly rather choke than be in the same room with Robert. He decided that he’d clean the whole flat, tidy up everything outside of personal bedrooms, then invite Alex out to lunch.

Except that isn’t what happened.

What actually happened was along the lines of Robert waiting until he could hear Alex wake up to hoover the rugs and cobwebs and immediately getting his ass chewed upon flipping the switch and beginning.

He hadn’t even heard him at first. Tap on the shoulder, hand on his shoulder, he was spun in place before he could turn it off. Alex jerked the cord from the wall.

“Just what are you doing, Robbie?” Robert blinked at the obviously upset man. Robert hated the nickname. It was only used in a negative way and only by Alex, despite him thinking it used to be, dare he say, a cute and fitting nickname for himself from close friends and, formerly, family.

“Hoovering the-”

“I meant, why are you doing it this early?” Oh. Robert blinked and shrugged.

“I was going to clean the flat today and thought maybe we-”

“We? I’m not cleaning on my day off, sorry.”

Robert squinted at him, now affronted.

“I didn’t want or expect you to, don’t you worry, Alexander.” He sneered slightly, regretting wanting to do something nice for or with him. He didn’t regret having second thoughts about him after the flat’s first dinner together, though.

“What I was going to say before you so eagerly interrupted was that I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch when I was finished cleaning, but you’re likely to lock yourself in your room until I go back to mine, so don’t worry about it.”

Alex stared at him, it shifts into a falter, then a glare. He opened his mouth to defend himself, even though they both knew he was right.

“Sorry for waking you up. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll start in the kitchen instead,” Robert pushed past him and let their shoulders knock against each other, sighing and picking the bucket off the floor when he got to the kitchen. He’d already put each of the chairs on top of the table after wiping it down, giving him a better reach under it.

He filled the bucket with cleaning solution and water, mopping a corner before placing it down right there, not noticing Alex bent over into the icebox until he heard the plastic crinkle of an ice lolly wrapper as Alex opened it and leaned against the counter. Robert stared at him, sighing when he made no move to leave, decidedly beginning the chore he’d set out to do and mopping the floor.

He was tedious with it, as there were spots that hadn’t been touched with a mop in months. Not that he blamed them, he knew they all had busy schedules and likely didn’t want to spend what little free time they had deep-cleaning.

Drip.

Robert glanced up and saw Alex, bright red melting popsicle dripping from his hand to the floor. He took a lick maybe every 5 seconds, letting it hit the floor. Robert followed the movement of his hand to his face as he dragged his lips over the sweet, and he wanted to hit the roof.

“Alex-”

“I’ll be done in a moment.”

Robert closed his mouth, but it parted again on its own accord when Alex wrapped his mouth around the popsicle, dragging up and off of it once more. His lips moved, but Robert’s mind went blank. Had he gone deaf?

“Hello? Are you that pissed about such a small mess that you can’t answer a single question?” Alex snapped at him, figuratively and literally, free hand up in the air.

Robert blinked, anger replacing whatever he’d felt a moment before.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked where we’re going for lunch.”

“I was going to ask what you’d prefer,” Robert admitted plainly, continuing his work, mop end knocking against Alex’s bare feet as he mopped up the growing pool of red juice. Alex’s nose scrunched up as he bounced on each of his feet trying to get out of the way.

“You have quite a way of talking to people, Robbie,” Alex sneered. Robert froze and straightened up.

“We’ll order in, then.”

Robert was doing everything he could to stay patient with this man, but he was making it hard _on purpose_. Alex stayed quiet and nodded, pursing his lips and letting the silence steep. It was all well and good by Robert until the remaining chunk of the since forgotten popsicle landed on the freshly mopped patch of floor in front of Alex’s feet.

“What- Alex-” Robert started, leaning down quickly to pick it up before it could melt any further, but Alex tried to act just as quickly, their heads knocking together and causing Robert to slip on the wet linoleum and onto his ass. He held his head and groaned, sighing and glaring at Alex.

He held a hand out for Robert to take, his free one holding his own forehead. Robert waved his hand away and tried to get up on his own, only slipping again. Alex snorted and he looked up at him, eyebrows stitching together and face heating up.

“Please, just go.”

Alex deadpanned and blinked a few times, straightening up and leaving the room without a word. Robert wanted to recluse back to his room and abandon the chores he’d looked forward to doing, but when he got to his feet and picked up the half-dissolved chunk of ice to chuck into the sink (only making more of a mess in the end), he could hear the hoover start again in the living area.

He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders and he thought to himself that maybe the arrogant ass felt somewhat bad, so he picked up the mop and smiled the rest of his stay in the kitchen.

+

It didn’t take him long to finish his list of chores, but he still felt that sense of accomplishment. He never felt that accomplishment as a janitor. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the work, but he was treated as subhuman for it. He didn’t matter. He figured, in the grand scheme of things, he actually didn’t, but to be treated so lowly by complete strangers really put a damper on his outlook as a janitor.

But that was in the past.

His stomach growled just as he finished the bathroom, dropping the rags into the clothes bin beside his wardrobe before following the noise of the television. He poked his head into the room, eyes meeting the back of Alex’s head.

“In or out for lunch?” He asked, holding the doorframe as he leaned. He tried on yet another smile, his sour mood already having run out and willing to have a sit down with patience and understanding once again.

“In, aye.”

Robert waited for him to offer any idea as to what he wanted. Nothing.

“Any preferences?” He was met with another long moment of silence as if Alex hadn’t known for over an hour that Robert was getting lunch.

“Dealer’s choice?” Alex turned and looked over his shoulder at him. Robert had expected some form of snark, getting none, and not letting his smile falter. Maybe it even grew a little.

“I’m feeling Chinese takeout, but I’m fine with ordering from elsewhere for you-”

“That sounds great, thanks,” Alex gave a tight smile.

Robert knocked and drummed his hands against the doorframe as he turned to make his way to the phone, lifting it from the receiver and flipping through the phonebook.

“Robbie!”

Robert sighed at the nickname, hoping the other man wasn’t going to ruin the perfect half-hour streak they had going, “Yes?”

“Wonton soup? With the… those, erm, prawn crackers?” Alex seemed unsure asking for it, but Robert just shook his head, dialing in the number.

+

An hour, four shots of whiskey on each of two full and happy stomachs, and a short, comfortable silence later, Robert was stretched across the couch Alex had been. He’d done so when Alex had made a trip to the bathroom, but the warmth of the alcohol let Alex opt to sink to the ground and lean against the couch instead of bitching.

He poured two more shots and turned to hand Robert his, watching him take it and nearly choke as it went down, the angle awkward. Alex couldn’t help but laugh at him. It earned a gentle smack to the back of the head, but he didn’t much mind.

Robert let the fifth shot settle into his gut, a slow and sudden heat at the same time somehow. He stared at the ceiling, letting his fingers spread over his own stomach, his pinkie tickling against the snail trail peeking out from under his shirt. He rolled his head to look at the back of Alex’s, but was instead met with his side profile; he’d turned and situated himself differently, Robert supposed.

“Hey,” Robert hummed. Alex either didn’t hear him or chose not to answer. Robert pushed his head to the side gently, only briefly noting to himself that his hair was as soft as it looked, softer even.

“What, Robert?”

“M’talkin’ to you.”

“And?” Alex sounded more amused than annoyed, but his obstinance was mildly irritating nonetheless.

Robert sighed and looked to the ceiling again, playing with his own fingers, tapping the knuckles while he gathered the thought back up, swirling back into something coherent just in his line of sight, “What did you wanna do instead of journalism?” It wasn’t exactly what he was going for, but hell, he’d take it.

Alex poured two more shots, downing his before handing off Robert’s.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, Robbie,” Alex giggled to himself, ending on a small sigh, leaning his head against the cushion of the couch. Robert let his head loll lazily to face the top of Alex's head after downing the shot, letting the glass sit on his chest. He inhaled deeply, wanting to let go of a built-up sigh, but instead smelling Alex's shampoo. Sober, he would have been uncomfortable with even the thought of doing so, but this was an accident and Alex smelled like flowers. Robert didn't know what kind of flowers, but if he did, he'd own a candle of those flowers and that candle would always remind him of A- He faced the ceiling and cleared his throat, letting his brain catch up again.

“Oh no, wouldn’t want you to waste your precious time,” Robert teased, snorting to himself. It was Alex’s turn to shove Robert’s head away in jest, only to have his hand smacked away. Giggles erupted from the two men, slowly dying down into a comfortable silence.

“I quite like art.”

“Hm?” Robert didn’t quite catch it, so when Alex refused to repeat himself, he had to let his brain catch up to real life. Art? Alex? He didn’t seem the type at all. A man searching for a muse or inspiration to create a beautiful or ugly extension of himself onto a canvas or paper or clay.

Well, the longer he thought about it, Alex seemed like exactly the person. It was kind of sweet, hearing him mumble it like it was something to be ashamed of to begin with. Of course, Robert could relate. The first time he’d told another person that he wanted to write-

The first time.

He didn’t ask to see it, nor did he prod any further, “It suits you, art.”

Silence filled the space again, but this time Alex shifted where he sat, reaching for the bottle again.

Cringe, shudder, sigh.

“How do you figure?”

“Just something about you, I guess,” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Robert was five shots in and reaching his hand out for his sixth in hopes that Alex had poured two, and the cool touch of glass and the graze of fingertips against his own sated that hope.

He downed it and kicked his feet happily, gently, against the other end of the couch.

“Guess what kind of art, then, if you’re so sure,” the other man taunted, taking the shot glass back and setting it down. Robert thought for a long moment and tapped his fingers against his sternum. He hadn’t expected or prepared for an oral essay, but he could say the same for whatever switch had flipped after what had happened in the kitchen that morning.

“You’ve got the hands for clay,-”

“I do?”

“But I feel like you prefer paint. I can- Can see, like.. Oil paints. I’ll even bet that you get into it, smears of color on your face and hands and apron, but I doubt you’d have an apron. You probably have clothes special to wear when you get inspired,” Robert rambled, voice slurring slow and warm around the little area their heads took up. It was odd to imagine Alex doing something so intimate - because that’s what it was: intimate. Imagining him doing something personal and creative and there’s just that little smear of yellow on his nose and cheek - but it didn’t feel wrong or bad.

He opened his eyes to glance at him, but he was standing.

“The floor’s uncomfortable; move.” Robert made a face, but he let his legs fall off the couch and sat up, curling into the corner comfortably. Alex was holding the bottle, but not the shot glasses. He sunk into the couch and took a swig, handing it over. Robert took it, even if he wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. He was already past his normal, “I’m going home,” quota aside from wallow-drinking.

“Can you believe that _I_ never had the guts to show anybody? Me?” Alex seemed to be in his own disbelief, but Robert snorted at the confidence amidst an obvious lack of it. He took a swig.

“What’s stopping you? I bet you’re not half bad,” He offered, elbowing him gently, letting his head rest against the back of the couch, lolling slightly as he grinned.

“I make good money now, I can support myself, pay rent, take care of necessities, and still have enough for extras. You expect me to throw that away? For what? Recognition?” Alex’s slur disappeared momentarily as he spoke with more intent. Robert never took his eyes off of him.

“Happiness.”

Alex took the bottle and took a chug, two, three, and handed it back.

“You were right, Alexander,” he hummed, amused with himself and swishing the bottle slowly and listening to it slosh, only a fourth of the bottle left. The smell wafted up to his nose as he did so, but he found the confused look on Alex’s face just a little more intoxicating.

“What about?”

“You said they- they don’t really know you,” Robert took his own gulp, “Juliet and David?” Alex nodded, “I think, I think if they really knew you- She wouldn’t have been able to say what she did when you said it.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, the ones he’d thought about nightly for just over a week now, but Alex knew. He knew because he had, too, overthought and racked his brain over the exchange that night. But with knowing what Robert meant came the realization of the implication that Alex, the real Alex, or at least the parts of the real Alex that he’d been comfortable enough - stupid enough - to reveal, was worthy of love.

“I don’t feel good,” Alex admitted suddenly, standing up and sprinting to the bathroom. It happened too quickly for Robert to process it properly, but the sound of vomit hitting porcelain, and the faintest thought of only having just cleaned in there, was enough to get him to his feet. Getting to the kitchen to get a glass of water was hard enough, but getting said glass of water to the bathroom was a true feat. He’d only spilled a little bit.

He knocked on the bathroom door, it pushing open where it was cracked to see Alex slumped over the bowl, no longer emptying the contents of his stomach, but sniffling. He felt like he was intruding, so he only waited a moment before placing the glass on the back of the toilet within his reach and leaving, closing the door behind him.

As he cleaned their previous place of conversation, he tried his best to prevent a bigger mess while going over their conversation as many times as he could, scouring for a reason as to why he was upset. He washed the dishes, slowly and carefully, swaying in place as he continued to rack his brain.

It wasn’t until he heard Alex’s bedroom door close and he was back in his own room, toeing his slippers of under the edge of the bed, that he realized.

It didn’t hit him like a brick wall, nor did it settle in slowly. It was just there, in his face. Alex didn’t deserve love, according to Alex.

Robert didn’t work on his book when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to drop a comment and a kudos to feed my attention whore-ism! jkjk but really it's one of the only things I look forward to when writing, so if you're feeling generous drop em like they're hot.
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert inadvertently betrays Alex's trust, but there's always a silver lining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter yet! Enjoy!
> 
> Leave a kudos and comment if you like!
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent

Robert hadn’t anticipated an entire month of bitter silence from Alex, and, if he was being candid, that’s how he’d describe a good day. On a bad day, Alex would go out of his way to make Robert miserable, and as hard as it was, he would only nod or say something along the lines of, “It’s nice catching up with you,” sometimes even thanking him, just to avoid feeding the beast.

He knew, objectively, why Alex was treating him this way, but subjectively it got harder each day to put up with it, and two weeks in, he started spending more time alone in his room with the door closed unless he was cooking or cleaning. He had no problem doing the chores, but Alex being the only other person with a steady schedule and the most amount of free time proved to put Robert off his groove.

Alex had taken to belittling nearly everything Robert did (when he wasn’t spending his last few minutes before work after David and Juliet already left to bang out overwhelming beats on his drum set right next to Robert’s door), very obviously seeking a reaction from the man, to the point that both Juliet and David, on multiple occasions, would silence him with either glares or belittlement towards him of their own. Robert appreciated the sentiment, but something about Alex being put down, even when he was trying his damndest to do the same to Robert, made his chest ache. He didn’t address it with himself no matter the crestfallen look on the other man’s face when the people who were supposed to be his friends refused to take his side.

It died down to nitpicking before Alex began staying in his room again, back to square one. On his days off, he’d simply leave the flat for a few hours and come back in the afternoon as if to avoid Robert offering any form of kindness as he had a month before. Robert preferred the insults.

On one of Alex’s days off, Juliet happened to have the same day and the night before off, leading Robert to ask her for a favor. It wasn’t the best idea, he’d admit that, but Alex hated him and it was the only way he could get his laundry done. During the weeks of direct anger and passive aggression, Alex had only given his clothes bin to Robert after being asked several times, and even then, he slid it past the threshold of his room harshly, letting it topple and spill over onto the ground before offering a grin and slamming the door in his face.

Of course, Robert had silently gathered the laundry and washed and dried them, leaving the bin in front of the door and only knocking quietly before leaving as quickly as he could. He could take it in the moment. He really could. But anticipating it seemed to feel worse than just allowing it after being hopeful. He knew it didn’t make sense.

But here he was, knocking on the doorframe of the living area and waiting for Juliet to look up at him over the frames of her glasses from the book she had her nose in.

“Hello, Robert,” she gave him a small smile, pulling her glasses off to give him time to speak.

“Hi, erm. I hope you’re enjoying your book, and I’m sorry to interrupt, but could you possibly get Alex’s clothes bin for me?” Robert rubbed the back of his head, speaking softer. Juliet smirked and stood, rounding the couch and leaning against the back of it, folding her glasses into her breast pocket.

“And why can’t you get it?”

Robert furrowed his eyebrows and shifted on his feet.

“I’m not really in the mood to have it thrown at me,” Robert admitted. He doubted Alex would _actually_ do such a thing, but he’d also doubted that Alex would hate his guts for suggesting that he wasn’t a terrible human being. He felt his ears get hot, ashamed that he couldn’t even muster the courage to get a clothes bin, “If he knows I’m the one doing the laundry, he’ll make it as difficult as possible, and I only want to get all the laundry done, yeah?”

Juliet crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “You know, David wondered what you did to make him despise you. I wonder as well, honestly. I figured he would have asked for a flat vote to kick you out at this point.”

Robert felt like it wasn’t his business at all to tell, but maybe that was because he had used sentiments from Juliet and David to back up the point he’d made, to begin with. But it still felt like the information was intimately Alex’s and Alex’s alone to tell. Would he really get to the point where he’d request a vote to have Robert kicked out?

“He said I try too hard to connect with others, but he didn’t take kindly to me calling him an arrogant ass. Because I asked if he wanted to get lunch on his first day off after I moved in,” Robert explained it like he was admitting something private, and Juliet made a face as if she saw through the lie, like it was written on his forehead. She nodded regardless of the look of mild disbelief on her face.

“I’ll tell him I’m taking care of the laundry tomorrow before I go out with Lauren and that I’ll leave the basket in front of his door to get it when he wakes up. You’ll have to wake up early,” Juliet warned, but the passive, almost sadistic, amusement in her voice told Robert that she really was enjoying the back and forth. That she had obviously considered the very likely possibility of Alex finding out anyways.

“Yeah, yes, that’s fine. Thank you so-”

Juliet put her hand up and shook her head, laughing to herself and walking past him and rounding the corner. He could hear the entire exchange, and it almost angered him how easy it was for Juliet, who had regularly made remarks to and about Alex that would put him in a position of self-doubt, to get the bin from him compared to how hard it was just to be in the same room as him for Robert.

“Give me your clothes bin.”

“And why should I?”

“It is clear that I need them so that I can wash them, is it not?”

“Is it not Robert’s job?”

“Surprise, he doesn’t want to do your laundry for you. Hand it over and I’ll leave it outside your door in the morning,” Juliet explained. There was a long pause.

“So you’re doing my laundry?”

“I thought I already clarified that.”

“Hold on.” The door closed and another lengthy pause and footsteps followed. Within another moment, Robert could hear the door open and clothes bin touch the ground and a small, “Wait,” the dropping of something into the bin followed by the sound of it sliding across the floor, “There,” and the door closing. Robert was ready to thank Juliet, but she didn’t come back to the living area, instead taking the bin to the laundry room and retiring to her room with a called-out goodnight to the flat.

+

Robert woke up three hours early to do _laundry_. In the dark. The dark wasn’t a rule or something he particularly had to do, but his eyes were sensitive in the mornings.

He dumped the load into the washer after groggily sifting through it to gather white socks and boxers. He had a system to get through the load as fast as he could, letting the coloreds wash, throwing them into the dryer but not starting it, quick washing the handful of whites, then adding them to the dryer with the rest, starting it and letting it run through its process.

As he started the dryer and walked out of the laundry room, he caught David leaving for work just as he closed the door. Robert sighed and went to his room, digging out a crossword puzzle book and a pen, finding a seat in the living area.

He fell asleep sitting there, his pen pressed against the paper and soaking a growing spot of blue ink into it. The dryer buzzed loudly, waking him up with a start. He stretched and padded into the laundry room, swallowing a yawn he _knew_ wasn’t going to be quiet. He turned the light on, letting his eyes adjust instead of instinctively turning it off, as he wanted to pair the socks and fold them. He would have planned on doing the same with the rest of the clothes, but it wasn’t like he knew what Alex folded and what he hung up.

Alex. Robert rolled his eyes just thinking about the man, his tired state not having the patience to filter through the annoyance. But immediately after the annoyance came confusion. He sifted through the clothes as he pulled them from the dryer and spread them across the tops of both machines.

“What?”

Most of the clothes were Alex’s, no doubt about it, but Juliet had to have added her own laundry to the bin as well. There was a black, white lace trim slip, several pairs of women’s underwear, and even a few bras to match some of the pairs. Robert checked the sizes, expecting mediums (Lily was only a little wider hipped than Juliet and he distinctly remembered most of her undergarments being mediums if not occasionally smalls, depending on the brand. He made himself uncomfortable with both the comparison, but also the thought of Lily. An aerobics instructor? Really? He didn’t even feel the melancholy pang of love he usually had reserved for memories of her.) and finding larges. He held the slip out in front of him and thumbed the fabric, chewing his lip.

Hm.

He thought for a moment, putting the slip down and repeating the action with the bras, after clasping them, of course. They were too big around and too small in the cups for it to be-

They weren’t Juliet’s. The undergarments weren’t Juliet’s. He racked his brain trying to remember if he’d just forgotten about this the first time he did laundry for the flat, but no matter how many times he went through it, nothing pointed towards him knowing about this before that day. Alex had to have only put them in the bin when Juliet told him that _she_ would be doing his laundry. Alex had trusted her with this and Robert had invaded his privacy. He felt sick.

Robert didn’t even think to point blame at Juliet. He hurried through folding the socks, putting all the pieces of clothing he felt guilty about having knowledge of at the bottom before dumping the rest of the clothes in on top of them. His ears burned and his face heated up as he carried the bin to Alex’s door, setting it down and going to his room and sitting at his desk.

It wasn’t half an hour before he heard Alex’s door open and close, very shortly after opening once more, followed by his voice.

“Robert?”

He went wide-eyed and worried his lip, pretending he hadn’t heard. Or he tried to, but within seconds, his bedroom door was open and bouncing off the wall a little less than gently. He jumped and turned in his seat, opening his mouth to confront the situation before he saw a folded pair of socks in Alex’s hand.

Furthermore, Alex was red in the face, lips pursed. Robert cleared his throat and continued anyway.

“What the hell are you doing? Get out.”

Confusion flashed over Alex’s face, but it didn’t last, “I know you did my fucking laundry, Robert.”

“No, I didn’t,” Robert lied, sneering at him if only to get him to drop it and leave, but his face started heating up again, chest pounding.

“So why are my socks folded? Juliet doesn’t fold my socks, she throws the shit in, takes it out, dumps the bin at my door,” Alex accused, shaking the socks in his hand. Robert glanced at them then the ground. Shit.

“That’s what I fucking thought. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat, Robert making a face. He scoffed when he didn’t reply, leaving the room. His stomps matched with Robert’s panicking heartbeat. He jumped up and followed after him.

“Look- Alex, wait-” Robert grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know, I just wanted-” Alex spun around and jerked Robert forward, pushing him against the wall next to the door of Alex’s bedroom. Robert gasped and grunted, head hitting the wall harder than he’d expected.

“Just wanted to what? Snoop? Be a fucking burden? You can’t mind your business and you’re so fake-nice, it disgusts me. I can’t even avoid you to save your precious feelings without you ruining that too,” Alex snarled, causing him to flinch and turn his face away from him. His stomach dropped and felt icy, face hot and ashamed. Alex didn’t continue, but he held Robert there, taking a deep breath and sighing. He had to take a deep breath of his own to prevent the overwhelming upset from spilling over before he faced him again.

When Robert looked at him, his eyes were glassy and his cheeks mirrored Robert’s. Red, spreading behind his hair and presumably to his ears.

“I’m- I’m really s-”

He couldn’t get the sentence out before Alex’s lips were on his. He went wide-eyed and tense, relaxing just in time for Alex to pull away, just as wide-eyed as he was, but Robert followed his lips as he pulled away, stomach doing cliché backflips.

“That was a mistake.”

Robert heavily disagreed. He shook his head, not blinking, lips parted.

“Are you sure?” Robert’s voice cracked as if he wasn’t in his mid-twenties. He didn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it, swallowing hard and letting his shoulders fall. Alex shook his head just as subtly as he had.

 _Oh_.

+

Robert laid flat and caught his breath, staring at the ceiling and lifting his arm to allow Alex room as he fell to his side and wrapped an arm over his middle tentatively. He squirmed and grimaced, a familiar but long-lost soreness settling into his lower half and the warm stinging of marks across his chest and neck as he ran a hand over Alex’s back, the soft fabric of the freshly washed slip tickling his fingertips.

“I didn’t mean what I said, Robbie.”

Robert blinked at the ceiling before glancing down at him, watching him pick at his own blanket where it was resting against his ribs. He hadn’t expected the calm to last, and the last thing he’d expected was an apology. Or the closest Alex could get to an apology.

“I did.”

They both knew what he meant. Alex’s fingers busied themselves running the thinnest edge of the blanket under his fingernail and appreciating the distraction. Robert could hear him chewing the inside of his cheek. It was almost too close to those three words. He looked up at him and Robert felt his stomach twist as he shifted closer.

Robert woke up as their lips connected.

+

Robert stared at his curtains, stared at the oranges and reds of the sunset shining through and reflecting off of the fabric. He’d been sitting there half an hour, trying to organize his own thoughts, trying to avoid a heart attack, trying to get out of the bed and walk his way to Alex’s door and _knock_. But David and Juliet were both home now. He very well couldn’t question him about the kiss earlier. He missed that opportunity. He didn’t want to push after Alex apologized, after he closed and locked his door behind him and didn’t take a single step until Robert had walked away. He knew because he listened.

Robert couldn’t see Alex leaned against the wall covering his mouth with a clamped hand, leaving finger-shaped pink and white impression marks on his warm cheeks.

Robert had been so overwhelmed with the event, because that’s exactly what it was, that he’d returned to his own room, laundry forgotten, and went to sleep. He didn’t normally sleep well under stress, definitely a toss-n-turner, so he attributed the dream to that. The tent under the blanket to that. He was lying to himself, sure, but who had to know?

He inhaled deeply and could smell dinner, his stomach growling in a desperate plea for food, and only then did he realize he hadn’t eaten since the night before. As if on cue, Juliet knocked on his door and walked away, surely alerting him that it was time to eat.

He didn’t know what to do. Alex was out there, they all ate together on nights everybody was home, almost always. Why wouldn’t he be? Robert didn’t want to hope that he wasn’t, but looking forward to seeing him? It made him nervous. It was cliché, but he wanted to digest these butterflies as soon as humanly possible.

It must have taken him several minutes to will his legs over the side of the bed and into his grey slippers, because the next knock was harder. Not harsh, no, but definitely firm.

“Time to eat, Ro-”

Robert cut Alex off and cleared his throat, “Coming!”

He resented his own vocal cords for the little break in his voice. He resented Alex for the smug chuckle on the other side of the door.

Robert made his way to the kitchen in what felt like ten years, lips tingling and not for food. He stared at his seat, plate and silverware in front of it, kitchen filled with the mouth-watering scents associated with spaghetti. His stomach spoke up again and he laughed softly to himself, much of the anxiety dwindling as Juliet scooted the pot of pasta towards him when she and David were finished with it.

“It smells wonderful, thank you, Jules,” Robert said warmly, taking the pot and scooping a large portion onto his plate and pushing the pot towards Alex without looking at him, still smiling.

“I didn’t make it,” Juliet clarified, twisting her fork into the pasta, “Alex did.”

Robert went pink and nodded, glancing at her then Alex, mumbling his thanks. He didn’t reply, but his smile was unmistakable.

When all plates were made, David asked the table how everyone’s day was after telling a small anecdote about the audacity of some client or another. Juliet talked about her day with Lauren seamlessly and Robert suddenly felt sick again. He poked at his food, barely having touched it anyways.

When Juliet was done talking, Alex cut in and said he just caught up on sleep and watched television. Robert, oh so wonderfully, mumbled that he just wrote in his room most of the day and was probably going to turn in after finishing the laundry. He made it through the sentence without a single stammer.

He tried to take a bite after, chewing slowly and letting his fingers twiddle with his fork as the conversation continued. Until he felt eyes on him.

“Are you okay? You’re not eating much.”

Robert turned his gaze to Alex, who sounded much too genuine and concerned for it to have really been Alex at all. He nodded and cleared his throat.

“Are you sure? You’re normally half through your plate by now,” He joked lightheartedly. Robert stared at him, studying his face. Crease in between worried eyebrows, lips pulled tighter than usual, eyes soft. He stabbed at the spaghetti and twisted a large bite onto it.

“Just tired, Alex, thanks,” he offered, glancing at the other two and only realizing right then that they were staring at Alex. Juliet dismissed it quicker than David did, who kept his eyes on Alex then glancing at Robert a few times before he shook his head, laughing. Did they assume that Alex caring was a jest?

Was it?

Robert turned his eyes back to Alex, who was now gulping down the wine in his glass. He side-eyed Robert, a spark of his usual bite in the look. He shovelled the bite he’d prepared a moment earlier into his mouth and chewed through it diligently, eyebrows furrowed. He was sure he’d have looked like he was pouting if it wasn’t for his full cheeks.

+

Instead of doing the rest of the laundry and turning in, he stayed behind in the kitchen by himself and worked on the dishes, scrubbing each one harshly while he thought. What was wrong with Alex that he couldn’t be less confusing for even a single day? What was wrong with Robert that he wasn’t worth Alex’s time unless it was to inform him that he _wasn’t_ worth his time? He knew that he was personally going to pretend the kiss never happened.

Why shouldn’t he? Alex hated him, the kiss was a fluke, a moment of misguided passion. The dream could be easily forgotten. Alex had said it himself: it was a mistake. He’d only kissed Robert because he was caught up in the moment and confused himself.

He had to tell himself this. He had to. Who the fuck falls for their roommate, their roommate that treats them like dirt, no less.? Dense idiots. Morons. Those without common sense. Masochists. He wouldn’t be listed under that category of people because Alex wouldn’t be either.

He dried each dish and felt better by the end of it, having successfully lied to himself. If he ignored the details, the context, it was easy to do so and to pretend he hadn’t. So, he dumped David’s clothes bin into the washer and measured out detergent, circling it around and overtop the fabrics before starting it. He wiped his hands on his pants and turned around, looking up in time to run directly into Alex.

He started apologizing before he could process it, “Oh- I’m sorry, I-” he laughed, “didn’t see you.” When he realized that it was Alex and that it was, in fact, Alex’s fault, he paused and squinted at the man, face heating up despite his best efforts.

“Join us for a cigarette outside?”

+

Robert had grabbed his jacket on their way out the door, jerking it on while following Alex down the stairs.

“I don’t even smoke.”

No answer.

“What is this about? I have things to do,” Robert lied, voice wavering. He was glad to be walking down a stairwell. A proper excuse.

No answer, again.

“Look, if you’re not even going to talk to me-”

“People are asleep, Robbie,” Alex said calmly, opening the back door, the one leading to the courtyard for residents to visit. He held it open so Robert, who was now silent and embarrassed that he hadn’t even thought of the other flats, could exit first. It was the first time he’d been down there since moving in and getting an initial look at it.

It was nice, even at night. Especially at night, he corrected himself. The area had a walking path and a little garden, as well as green grass and an almost cute, little sitting area. Alex led the way to said sitting area, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and smacking it gently against his palm before taking one out and sticking it between his teeth, lighting it.

Robert shoved his hands into his pockets, waiting impatiently for the man to start speaking. He waited through him lighting it and taking several drags.

“Well?” He asked expectantly. Alex shrugged and scooted over, nodding to the side.

“Just wanted company, really.” Robert was having his second _oh_ moment of the day. Of the year. Would the century be overdoing it? He shifted on his feet and took the seat Alex had cleared for him, even though it was in the corner of the bench and there was much more room on the other side of him. Their legs were aligned and touching almost entirely, hip to shoe. It shouldn’t have made Robert calmer.

“I owe you an apology, don’t I?” Alex asked, looking ahead of himself and chewing on the butt of the cigarette, his free hand in his own pocket. Robert shook his head.

“You already did, remember? It was a mistake like you said. Fine by me, really,” Robert lied, laughing to himself and nudging Alex with his shoulder, trying to seem in a much lighter mood than he really was. Alex shook his head.

“Not that. The way. You know. I haven’t been the nicest to you and it wasn’t fair. You’re just as much part of the flat as we are and I shouldn’t have been so… nasty? To you. Over silly things,” Alex chuckled bitterly and he barely glanced at Robert.

“Oh. That,” Robert mumbled, “No, that’s fine too.”

He knew he shouldn’t be so ready to forgive him, but if he didn’t, then what was the point in putting up with it for so long hoping for this exact situation? For Alex to realize that Robert meant no ill will?

“I didn’t mind that as much. I understood. I said something that challenged your worldview, I guess, and I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my place. I wish that, like. You hadn’t been so angry, but I was patient for a reason, I guess.”

Alex stared at Robert, head hunched slightly and looking back at him past his arm, looking at him from a lower angle. He didn’t like this kind of confrontation. He hated it. It made him sick. Who in their right mind would willingly be emotionally intimate with another person without necessity? Not Alex. Never Alex. Not directly.

“So, don’t worry about it.”

“So you minded the kiss more than me treating you like shit?” Alex asked, chewing the inside of his cheek, lips pursed. Robert stared at him before letting himself take a turn of looking ahead of him, soon uncomfortable with it and looking at his hands instead.

“I minded that you were so angry with me that you acted without thinking? I shouldn’t have seen what I had, it was none of my business,” Robert admitted. It wasn’t the real reason he minded, no. But it was believable, he thought.

“Bullshit,” Alex took a hard drag from the poisonous little stick. Robert glanced at him before squinting again.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s bullshit. If you’re going to lie and make a mockery of me, the conversation is over,” Alex exhaled the smoke too close to Robert’s face along with the accusation, making his face twist up angrily.

“I didn’t even want to come down here, Alex!” He stood up, hands no longer in his pockets, “If I say I felt a way, I did.” Alex stood up and dropped the cigarette, grinding it under his heel. He put his hands in his pockets and began walking away. Robert gaped and blinked, trying to come up with _anything_ to quell the panic building in his stomach. He hadn’t worked for weeks towards patience and taking all that was dealt to him just for him to walk away because he wasn’t happy with the answer he’d gotten.

Robert reached out and grabbed Alex’s wrist.

“That’s not fair.”

“Suppose not.”

“I don’t think anything’s fair with you, if you want the truth.”

“Let me go, I’m going back to the flat.”

Robert sighed and tightened his grip.

“No, you wanted the truth. You were right; I lied,” Robert admitted. Alex was taken aback but hardly showed it, the miniscule signs on his face barely hidden under the bright moon overhead nonetheless, “I didn’t mind the kiss, I didn’t mind your anger, but I do mind you pretending to care at dinner. I mind you choosing to be nice when it’s convenient. I mind not being allowed to have a say in any of it, not even lying, because you’ll throw a fit otherwise. I meant what I said that day, I still do, but you don’t have to be a fucking jackass, Alex.”

Robert’s voice got less tense as he spoke, devolving into something softer, something warmer despite his words. He was unsure of himself after letting it out and Alex most definitely looked uncomfortable at being confronted with such an accurate description of himself, of his reaction to something that had _scared_ him.

His arm went lax in Robert’s hold.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be-”

“For making you think I don’t care. For acting like I didn’t, I mean. What else were you supposed to think?”

Robert stared at Alex, head tilting as he listened. Alex was laughing now, at himself, at Robert, at the situation.

“I have the emotional maturity of a five year old, which is no excuse, but it’s amusing, no?” Robert let go of his wrist and just watched him, trying to process the new addition to the interaction. He didn’t blink, taking in every metaphorical frame of Alex laughing his head off over his own immaturity and faults in the moonlight. If he could scold himself right then for taking a moment like that to admire a person, he would, but he had the sneaking suspicion he’d be interrupting.

Wait. As he realized what Alex was saying, what he found so funny, _why_ he was so immature, a grin spread over his cheeks slow and wide.

“So, you’re saying-” Alex straightened up and pointed a threatening finger at Robert as he spoke, residual giggles spilling over and ruining whatever threat he had come up with that quickly, backing him towards the bench again.

“Don’t you start with me,” Alex said, voice light and bouncing with the invisible chuckles begging to come out.

“So, what you’re _saying_ is,” Robert started again, grin wider and parted now, backing up as if he was a child in a game of tag. He supposed he was, if he thought about it, “is that you’re going to kiss me again? Gonna give us lovely little smooches, Mr. Law?” He asked, his laughter joining Alex’s.

Alex shook his head, smirking regardless of it, and Robert rounded the bench as Alex got closer. The sneaking suspicion from before had now turned its attention towards the possibility of Alex taking what may be considered a drastic measure of childish-as-hell-proportions. He put his hands up, palms out, as Alex spoke.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re lucky I kissed you at all,” Alex sneered teasingly, his stance entirely that of an entirely too amused predator with too much freedom in an empty park. Robert shrugged and glanced at the grass behind him.

“Well, maybe-”

A few seconds was enough for Alex to tackle Robert gently to the ground, sitting on his middle instead of his hips but not pinning him down. Robert gasped in an all-too-shrill manner and giggled when he landed, wiping his dewy, grass-stained hands on Alex's pants. He glanced down and squirmed, huffing, only for Alex to cross his arms.

“Maybe what?”

“Jackass.”

“We’ll sit like this all night, Robbie,” Alex grinned. Robert pouted and crossed his own arms, huffing a sigh. He had no problem revealing what he’d been saying before he hit the ground, but being willfully obstinate was fun when Alex thought he was winning for it. Alex poked his chest, jabbing him gently.

“You gotta say sorry for interrupting first.”

Alex gasped and obviously didn’t take it seriously. It was hard to with Robert very clearly trying to suppress a grin.

“Robert, I apologize with as much possible sincerity as I can gather for interrupting you. That good?” Alex asked, his smile present in his voice almost more than on his face. Robert feigned drama and held his own cheek.

“All is forgiven, of course,” he said, shifting under him. The dew of the grass was getting through his jeans and soaking his lower back where his shirt and jacket had ridden up, “Now, what I was _going_ to say was that _maybe_ I was lucky.”

“Only maybe?” Alex asked, jabbing Robert in the chest in jest.

“Maybe you’re lucky I even asked for another.”

Alex thought on this for a moment, taking a few seconds to seem as if he was thinking hard and proper, “I can’t say I disagree, but you didn’t.”

“I didn’t what?”

“You didn’t _ask_ for another. You asked if I was going to,” Alex said smugly, arms crossed over his chest. Robert squinted at him even though he was right. He took the opportunity of physical vulnerability to roll Alex off of him, quickly claiming his hips as a seat as Alex had done to him, ignoring his protests.

“That’s no fair, Rob-”

“All’s fair in love and war, idiot,” Robert scolded, leaning down and kissing the tip of Alex’s nose, feeling it pull away as Alex leaned up for a real one, head tilting slightly. How could he refuse? Robert wiped his hand on his jeans absentmindedly before holding Alex’s cheek and jaw gently, feeling how warm he was against his palm, before kissing him truly.

By truly, he meant slowly, taking advantage of the freedom of privacy in the park to give his full attention to the kiss. Now, there weren’t fireworks or sparks flying or anything of the sort, but there was the easily recognizable shot of cold warmth down his spine that mingled with the butterflies that had set up camp in his stomach, followed by the inherent calmness that came when you knew you were in the right place.

When he pulled away, Alex’s lips followed for half a second before he let his head rest against the grass.

“Is that what this is?” He asked softly, one hand on Robert’s hip, the other resting limply next to his head in the grass. Robert almost wished he was an artist instead of an author. The question pinged as a reminder in his skull and he racked his brain for what he could have meant, only able to consider the last thing he said before the kiss.

“War? I thought we called a truce not five minutes-”

“The other thing.”

Robert was running out of _oh_ ’s. He knew he’d been lying to himself, that he’d been avoiding that feeling, that he avoided confronting himself and the truth, but being faced with the moment of truth in and of itself was overwhelming.

“I think you’d know, wouldn’t you?” He asked instead.

“I do, yeah.” Alex looked like he wanted to look away or sink into the dirt beneath the soft, dewy grass he was resting on underneath Robert. Robert shifted and nodded, chest constricting, heart pounding harder than when he’d been confronted about the laundry. He swallowed hard and let his fingers nervously tap against the middle of Alex’s chest where they lay after pulling away.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owwww first kiss feels.... admissions of love _kinda_ tingz.... it's almost 4 am. I'm tired as fukc. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Drop a kudos and give me your thoughts or feelings or keyboard smashes in the comments if you so choose. <3
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed! i'd definitely love to hear your thoughts and feelings.
> 
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen  
> Twitter: VO1Drent


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